The Definition of a Fop
by Kagome1514
Summary: Come on, you know you've all done it. You've all called Raoul a fop at one point or another. Come inside and read the true definition of a fop in this humorous oneshot. No pairings. Mildly bad language. XD


**A/N: Hello everyone! This is my attempt at a humorous one-shot. I hope you'll enjoy it. : ) **

**First, to correspond with the title, I would like to offer the definition of a "fop", couresty of www-dictionary-com (except with dots. XD) **

_**Fop: **_

_n: _A man who is preoccupied with and often vain about his clothes and manners; a dandy.

Middle English, _fool_ probably akin to Middle English fob, _trickster, cheat_. See **fob**2.

**Hey, fop was the Word of the Day on January 24, 2000. Hehehehe...**

**Definition of the word 'dandy': **

_n:_ A man who affects extreme elegance in clothes and manners; a fop

_adj._ **dan·di·er,** **dan·di·est **

Suggestive of or attired like a dandy; foppish.

Fine; good.

Perhaps short for jack-a-dandy, _fop_.

**I like the word dandy. **

**Dandy, fop, prit. They're all good. Even though 'prit' probably isn't a word. XD **

**One final definition for you all before you read the story. A word that we all use but may not even know the true definition of: pansy. **

**Definition of the word 'pansy': **

_n:_

_Offensive Slang._

a. Used as a disparaging term for a man or boy who is considered effeminate.

**(Effeminate meaning: **Having qualities or characteristics more often associated with women than men. **OR: **Characterized by weakness and excessive refinement.

b. Used as a disparaging term for a homosexual man.

Middle English pancy, from Old French pensee, _thought, remembrance, pansy_, from feminine past participle of penser, _to think_. See **pensive**.

**And now...**

_The Definition of a Fop_

Erik paced his lair, his boots clicking on the cool stone that made up the floor of his lair, his hands clasped behind his back, fuming with anger.

That insolent boy! That slave of fashion! Ignorant fool! Did he not know that Christine rightfully should belong to he, Erik, and not him?

Rotten fop!

Pathetic pansy!

Erik frowned at this, pausing in his steps, thinking '_He did have guts when he attempted to follow me after the masquarade...' _

He growled aloud to himself, "That doesn't make him any less of a fop! With that stupid long hair he is far too effeminate!"

Erik resumed his pacing, growling with anger and jealousy. He yelled out, "Christine deserves a real man! Not that dandy! Not that fop!"

He stopped, a wicked grin making its way onto his face, even more twisted because it was impeded by the white mask he wore. Within the blink of an eye, he was on his way to a certain diva's dressing room, a plot raging within his head.

((Christine's dressing room))

Christine sat at her desk, brushing her hair happily, humming as she did so. Suddenly, a familiar voice called out softly, "_Angel..._"

A smile lit up Christine's face as she stood; the brush lying forgotten on the smooth wood surface of the desk. She walked toward the mirror, willing to give her soul to her angel through music.

The enchanting voice of her maestro sang, "_Come to me, angel of music..."_

As she was walking toward the mirror, there was a sudden loud knock on the door, the voice of her childhood friend and sweetheart shouting, "Christine! May I speak with you, please?"

Feeling as if she were in a trance, Christine continued walking toward the mirror, a smile of delight and wonder on her face as she did so. The mirror seemed to vanish as she blinked, revealing her mysterious maestro.

Singing softly, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, her angel offered her his hand, which she took willingly.

As they began walking forward into the passageway, Christine could have sworn she heard an awfully loud bang come from her dressing room but she shook it off, happy to be hearing her angel sing to her.

Time seemed to pass in a blur and suddenly they were crossing the lake, her angel strongly rowing the gondola across as she sat demurely in it, singing with a pure quality, her voice echoing off of the walls. She didn't even know what she was singing...they were merely notes flowing out of her mouth, some high before swooping down low, before soaring back to the height of her voice. It was a strange tune but she couldn't seem to stop it.

The gondola came to a halt at the edge of the bank, rocking gently at the impact. Christine gasped, her hands gripping the sides of the boat.

She looked up to see Erik smiling down at her, holding out a hand to help her up. Smiling gently, she took his hand, surprised by his strength as he easily lifted her to stand on the sturdy ground of the bank.

Suddenly, to their surprise, there was a loud grating noise. Erik smirked, pulling Christine along with him as he headed toward the organ, intent to not let her know of the impending doom awaiting whoever had been stupid enough to try to get into his lair.

He began to play a soft, soothing melody on the organ, entrancing Christine, making her close her eyes and sway gently. He smirked; she didn't seem to realize that she was even moving.

To his great surprise, there was a sudden shout that rang across the lake, echoing in the stone walls of the cavern he called a lair. Christine stopped, her eyes open with shock as she gasped.

"Christine! What have you done to her, you monster! Let her go!"

Erik sneered, taking a hold of Christine's arm, "I haven't done anything to her, _boy_! She came willingly!"

Raoul yelled challengingly, "If that's the case, then you won't mind letting me see her!"

Erik sneered, confident that the foolish fop would not get very far at all. He quickly walked over to the hidden lever, releasing it, allowing the portcullis to lift, dripping water as it did so.

As Raoul stepped through, the water dripped on his head, surprisingly eliciting a girlish squeal of dismay.

Erik looked dryly at him, wondering, '_He's already wet. He's squealing about getting hit on the head with a few drops of water. You've got to be kidding me!_'

He glanced at Christine and noticed she had the exact same look on her face, probably thinking the exact same thing. She put a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes and shaking her head at her friend's antics.

Raoul rushed forward and yelled, "You jerk! You did that on purpose! You wanted it to drip on me so I'd look like less of a man in front of my dear Christine!"

Erik heard Christine mutter quietly, staring dryly at her friend, "You did that all on your own."

Erik smirked and said with a mock bow, "My apologies for apparently insulting your manhood. I had no idea you were so insecure!"

Raoul growled, going scarlet with anger and sloshed forward, grinding out, "Why you--"

Christine sighed and said, "Raoul, I don't understand what it is that you want! Why are you even here?"

Raoul put a fist to his chest, and in his overzealousness, hit himself squarely in the chest, wincing at the pain before saying, "I've come to rescue you, my darling Little Lotte!"

Christine winced before saying, "You've come to rescue me…?"

She sighed deeply, knowing that her friend was quite a klutz but that he did try. '_Maybe a little too hard at times…._'

Suddenly, Erik wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. He sneered and said, "Do you really think that she needs to be rescued by _you_, you foolish _fop_!"

Raoul gasped indignantly and crossed his arms over his chest, turning his head and sticking his nose in the air, saying with a surprising British accent, "Why I never--!"

Christine smiled, fighting off a laugh at his odd behavior. '_Maybe he was dipping into his father's wine……Yeah, that might explain it…..I almost hope he was…._'

Raoul suddenly charged forward, starting to say, "And _you, _you're the one who--" before he tripped and landed in the water.

Christine sighed, feeling that he must be drunk because that seemed to be the only logical solution. '_Either that or…..or…..he's just plain stupid._'

She sighed once more, remembering that even as a child Raoul had always been rather foolish.

Raoul resurfaced, gasping for air and made his way onto the bank, pointing an accusing finger at her 'captor' as he said, "You're the one who is the fop! What's with that cape and that girly mask!"

Erik growled, pressing Christine closer into his side as he ground out, "I would not talk of such things if I were you, _boy_!"

Raoul crossed his arms and asked airily, "Oh, why ever not? Too afraid to hear the truth?"

Erik sneered and said, "The only truth is that Christine chose to come to me!"

Raoul fumed and shouted, "You tricked her! Christine chose me!"

Erik yelled, "No, she chose me!"

"No, me!"

"No, she chose me!"

"You're wrong! She chose me!"

Erik yelled in retort, "Why would she choose to be with a fop like you who only cares about his possessions and how his hair looks!"

Raoul crossed his arms over his chest and said, "That's not all I care about! I care about Christine; I love Christine!"

Erik yelled, "NO, I love Christine!"

Raoul yelled, "I love her more!"

"No, I love her more!"

"No, no, no, I love her more!"

"NO, I do!"

Raoul cried out childishly, "Nuh-uh, I do!"

Just as Erik was about to mimic him, he was suddenly cut off by Christine yelling, "Stop!"

The two men turned to look at the woman they loved, wondering what she could possibly say.

They both took a step back in shock as they took in her face, anger coming off of her in waves.

She yelled, completely frustrated, "You know what!"

She glared at them, daring them to ask.

They both asked warily, simultaneously, "What?"

She yelled in their faces loud and clear, "You're both FOPS!"

The word 'fops' continued to echo off the cavern walls as Christine walked away and out of sight of the two men who had been vying for her love.

There was a moment of dead silence as the echo died off.

The muttered voice of Erik said, "You're the fop."

"No, you're the fop."

"No, she called you the fop."

"No, no, no, she called you the fop."

"You're mistaken; she called you the fop."

"No, you're wrong, she---"

A loud, angry cry rose from behind a hidden section, "SHUT THE HELL UP! I CALLED YOU BOTH FOPS! YOU'RE BOTH FOPS!"

The two blinked, staring at each other in bewilderment. As Raoul was about to open his mouth again, Erik shook his head, communicating with his eyes that they needed to shut up or risk angering her further.

Surprisingly, they both remained quiet, staring off into space, wondering '_What the hell just happened?' _

**THE END! **

**A/N: Well, that was my attempt at a humorous one-shot. I hope you all enjoyed it and I hope you are all a little wiser to the meaning of a 'fop'. **

**Please review! **

**Thank you. : ) **


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